Justice Is Served
by ToxicLullaby
Summary: Dean finally reaps the consequences of his actions after a prank he plays on Sam goes completely wrong.


Disclaimer- None of these characters are mine

Disclaimer- None of these characters are mine. And after this, I'm sure that's most likely a good thing haha.

A/N- Don't ask. I have absolutely no freaking clue where this one came from. I'm trying to improve my writing, like my grammar and such, so I got the idea to do a one shot to see if I fully understood some advice that was given to me, and sadly, this came to mind. It's evil, it's just all kinds of wrong, but it's what my insane mind came up with! Also, BIG thanks to ephiny63 for correcting this story and helping me make it better.

--

**JUSTICE IS SERVED**

As the brothers Winchester walk into their new temporary home, they both grumble at the sight of bright yellow floral wallpaper and matching bedspreads. "Dude, next time we get a room, can we please get one that doesn't look like it's been attacked by Martha freaking Stewart?" Dean says as he tosses his duffle onto his chosen bed. Sam nods in agreement while letting his bag drop from his shoulder and onto the floor with a thump.

"Hey, I'm gonna go hose off while you go do the laundry. Do you need to use the pot before you go?" Dean points with his thumb over his shoulder towards the bathroom.

Sam huffs. "Dean, we just got here. Why do I gotta do the laundry now?" Sam furrows his brows at his older brother.

"Well you don't have to; I mean that's if you don't mind me walking around al-natural for the rest of the night." Dean smiles in accomplishment when Sam, clearly irritated, snags both duffle bags up from their places and storms out of the room, glaring back at Dean as he pulls the door shut.

Dean walks into the bathroom and shuts the door. It's an okay sized bathroom. They've had much smaller. He sighs as he starts going through the drawers and cabinets to see what they're already equipped with and what they have to buy. But, during his search, Dean comes across a medium sized bag with a red and black oriental design covering it. Curious, he unzips it and dumps the contents out on the grungy white tile floor. His eyes widen as all of the tubes of makeup fall in front of him. The last time he's seen this much makeup was the time he had a one night stand with a cute, barely legal redhead who sold Mary Kay cosmetics.

As he looks over the items, a mischievous smile forms on his face as he picks up a tube of bright red lipstick. "Ah Sammy, I'm gonna make you look so prettyful!" he exclaims to himself as he stuffs the makeup back into the case and hides it in the very back of the cabinet.

Later that night, Sam's folding all of their clothes while Dean cooks dinner. "So, why were you so anxious to cook dinner tonight?" Sam looks over at his brother from the table where he's sitting.

Dean shrugs his shoulders. "Is it a crime to wanna cook once in a while? Don't you remember when I always cooked your food?" He rips open the bag of pre-shredded cheddar cheese and dumps the entire bag into the eggs he's preparing for the two of them.

"How can I not? I swear, if I had a dollar for every can of spaghettio's you made me eat, I'd be a millionaire."

Just as Sam has all of the clothes neatly folded and packed into their duffle bags, Dean's carrying two plates to the table, each of them buried underneath two huge cheese omelets. Sam walks over to the table and sits down in front of one of the plates and he takes a big bite. "Ok, this is really good. Although I don't know why we're having omelets at 10:30 at night, but it's actually better."

Dean mutters an agreement and manages to hide his smirk. Sam doesn't realize that Dean knows how he will pass out like a drunk and won't wake up if he stuffs Sam up with enough cheese.

By the time Sam has cleaned his plate, Dean has eaten only half of his cheesy-eggs. Sam's chair squeaks with sudden pressure as he leans back, stretches and lets out a long, drawn out yawn. "Ok Dean, I think I'm gonna go ahead and hit the sack." Dean nods, trying to hide his excitement as his plan all comes together beautifully.

Sam wastes no time falling onto the firm bed with a dent in the middle, crawling under the covers and laying his head back on the nice, cold, fluffy pillows. Hardly five minutes go by before Dean hears a slight snore coming from across the room. Grinning, he creeps into the bathroom and gathers the bag with his supplies. He walks over to the side of the bed his younger brother is facing and sits down on the floor, unzipping the bag he starts to look through the contents.

This girl must have been pretty fugly for her to have to cover her face up so much: he even finds a tube of primer. Twisting the cap off, Dean squeezes a slight amount onto his index finger; thinking how it's so wrong that he knows what all of this stuff is and how to apply it. It's not his fault he found a particular episode of Oprah quite interesting, and revealing, for that matter. Ever since then, he's always wondered how many chicks has he hooked up with that totally tricked his mind into thinking they're hot with their evil cosmetics.

A smile breaks out on Dean's face as he spreads the white cream all over his brother's face. Dean hadn't seen Sam's face look this white since their dad accidentally caught him looking at porn.

Now, on to the foundation. He pulls out a clear glass bottle of probably the palest ivory he's ever seen. As he starts coating Sam's face with it, he can't help but to chuckle quietly at the flawless, nearly white mask his brother now has.

"What next?" he asks himself, pulling out some black mascara Dean unscrewed the handle to pull out the bristled wand. Very carefully, he starts combing the black liquid onto Sam's eyelashes. As he does, the Maybelline slogan goes through his head, along with the hot blond chick who advertises it. _"Man, what I wouldn't give for a night with her. Then we'll really see if she's born with it!"_ he thinks, his already present smile growing into a grin. He's not quite sure what to do when he accidentally puts too much of the mascara on the brush and gets a big glob of it on Sam's eyelashes. So, not thinking it would actually do any harm, Dean gets the bright idea just to wipe it off. His eyes widen as he whispers "whoops." He tries to think of a plan of action for a moment before he gets the idea just to add more foundation to cover it up. It worked…sort of. Sam now has a large dark spot around his right eye. "Oh well, it's not that noticeable."

Since he's already working on the eyes, Dean starts looking through about ten different assortments of eye shadows. He holds the colors up to Sam's skin, just to get an idea of what would look best. So, of course, he chooses the almost neon pink. He searches through the bag for the applicator brush before covering it in the eye shadow. When he starts applying it, he's amazed at how bright it turns out. "Wow, with this stuff he'll never get lost in a crowd!"

He goes to put the eye shadow down, but remembers that on Oprah, they put a different color under their eyebrows. Once again, he looks through the colors before settling on a medium brown. "Oh, this'll look nice." He applies that, attempting to create a highlighting effect. It came out ok, not as good as how it looked on the TV. Oh well, he's not a professional, or a girl even, so it doesn't have to look perfect.

"Hmm, what to put on now?" He pulls out a pencil, he guesses eyeliner, but it's in a bright blue. "What is this chick? A glow stick wearing cyber junkie?" He shrugs his shoulders and decides to use this color anyways. He slowly draws an uneven line from the outer corner of Sam's eye to the inner corner. He tries to even it out, but the more he tries, the more it covers his brothers' eyelids. So now, on both of Sam's eyes, he has brown under his eyebrows, then neon pink halfway down his eyelids, then bright aqua colored blue for the other half. This is definitely not as easy as it looked on TV.

Now, for the most important feature…the lipstick. He has a good range of colors and shades to pick from. At first he goes for the red, but red doesn't go with pink and blue. So, what if he uses light purple, which is pink and blue mixed? He pulls the clear plastic cap off of the lipstick of choice and tries to figure out a way to do this. Does he do the top or bottom lip first? Oh, who cares, they're both gonna get color on them anyways. So, he goes for the top lip first. Not very easy when you're model is snoring. The lipstick slides off of Sam's lips a few times, but it's not too bad. The lower lip is the easiest since there's more room to work with. He spreads the oily color from one side of his mouth to the other, creating an even layer of color.

Dean sighs and leans back to look at his creation. He knows he's forgetting something, but what? He can't put his finger on it until his eyes land on a big black blush brush. "Ah, of course!" he says. He's not sure what's blush and what's eye shadow, so he just chooses the color he likes. It's a pinkish brown color, kinda pretty. He swirls the brush into the compressed powder to where he has enough on the bristles to use. Dean starts near Sam's ear and works his way down towards his mouth. He does the same to both sides, trying not to tickle his brother too much.

Dean rises onto his feet and takes a few steps back, admiring his masterpiece. He never thought he'd say this, but right at this moment, his brother looks like the worst drag queen ever! All he needs is a wig and a dress and there you have it, Dean's worst nightmare. Still, he's pleased with himself. At least he'll get one last laugh before Sammy kills him.

He quietly gathers all of the makeup that's on the floor and puts it back in the bag. He takes it into the bathroom and puts it back exactly where it was before. Yawning, he turns the bathroom light off and walks towards his bed. Hopefully he'll be able to see Sam's reaction when he gets a look at himself in the mirror.

--

At around nine o'clock the next morning, Sam wakes up to the sound of his stomach growling. He yawns deeply as he gets up out of bed, stretching his arms towards the cieling. Dean's not in his bed, but Sam can hear what sounds like magazine pages turning. He walks up to the bathroom door. "Hey Dean, you in there?" He grabs at his stomach that growls so loud he wonders if Dean can hear it too.

"Yeah, I'm here," Dean states groggily.

Sam yawns and walks over to the refrigerator only to find it completely empty. "Hey Dean, can you go get us some food?" He hears the toilet flush before he gets an answer.

"Sammy, I don't feel too good. I think last nights dinner was a bad idea."

Sam sighs, nodding. "Alright, I'll go this once. But next week you have to do both the laundry and grocery shopping." He walks over to his bag where he has all of his clothes neatly folded and tucked away. He pulls out his dark red v-neck t-shirt and a pair of holey blue jeans. "I'll be back in a few. Anything you want me to pick up for you?" he says while pulling on his brown hooded jacket.

"Can you get me some pepto or something?"

Sam gets a sympathetic look on his face. "Yeah, no problem."

As Dean hears Sam leave, he rests his elbows on his knees and puts his face in his hands and moans. "Damn it, I'm swearing off cheese forever. And eggs, just to be on the safe side." He picks up his playboy magazine that he keeps for emergencies. He flips through a couple of the pages before landing on a makeup ad with a beautiful blonde girl as the advertiser. "Man, look at this chick. She looks like a freaking mannequin. Why don't they have just normal girls with real titties and don't use a paint brush to do their makeup?" All of a sudden, Dean's eyes just about pop out of his head as he remembers his activities last night.

Without hesitation, he finishes taking care of business as quick as he can before he jumps up off of the toilet and runs out of the bathroom. "Oh my god! Oh my god! I'm so dead! I'm so dead!" he says, voice shaking with fear. He quickly grabs his cell phone and takes it into the bathroom. "Crap, he can bust through this door if he's mad enough!" He runs back out of the bathroom and looks around the room before his eyes fall on the chairs at the table. He grabs one and runs back into the bathroom with it. As soon as he has the door closed, he props the chair under the door handle so it'll make it harder for Sam to get in.

He sits on the floor, his back leaning up against the cabinets as he breaks out in a sweat in anticipation for his enraged brother to come back. "Oh my god, he's gonna kill me. Wait, I should call Bobby!" He flips his phone open and presses the second number on speed dial.

It rings twice before Bobby picks up. "This is Bobby."

Dean perks up. "Bobby! Oh thank god!"

Bobby shushes Dean as he busts into an explanation of his problem so he can calm down enough to be understood. "Dean, just take a deep breath and explain the situation. You sound like you're dying. Are you hurt or injured?"

"No, but I'm gonna be! I did something really stupid and now I'm gonna die!" Dean yells.

"Whoa, now hold on. What did you do?"

Dean swallows hard before answering. "Well you see, I found this bag of makeup some girl left in our room so I thought it would be funny to put it on Sam while he slept, but it was just a joke. Then this morning I woke up and I haven't been able to leave the toilet since and I completely forgot about it and he just left a few minutes ago to go buy us some groceries!" He pauses and waits for a reply, but all he hears is silence. "Bobby, are you still there?" Then he realizes if he closes his eyes and listens hard enough, he can hear someone laughing loudly in another room. "Oh come on! You're not helping!" Dean yells. "Bobby! Get back on the phone!"

About a minute later, the laughter gets closer until he hears Bobby pick up the phone from the table where he had put it down. "This isn't funny Bobby! I'm gonna die!" Bobby tries to contain his laughter, but fails. Dean just rolls his eyes and snaps his phone shut.

Then, he hears it… the Impala speeding into the parking lot in front of the room. His heart stops as his face goes white. When he hears the car door swing open and slam shut, he closes his eyes tightly, almost wishing he could disappear into that dark oblivion. He hears the key unlock the door to their room and the door slowly open. This is very bad. The only thing worse then a raging, loud, psycho, pissed off Sam is a quiet, slow, and almost dead calm Sam. He could feel it, the eyes burning through the bathroom door and into his heart.

Just when he thinks things can't get any worse, he hears the safety released on a gun and then the trigger pulled back. He quickly falls onto his stomach as Sam starts shooting the door handle off. After that, he shoots the latch too. After slamming his foot into the door a few times, the door flies open, revealing an infuriated Sam. Too afraid to raise his head, Dean just lifts his eyes. What he sees terrifies him.

"Get-up-now!" Sam says in a very low, threatening voice that Dean hasn't heard in a long time. But, not wanting to take any chances, he simply obeys the order.

Once standing, he can't bring himself to bring his gaze up from the floor.

"Look at me you asshole!" Sam yells. Shaking, Dean slowly looks up, making eye contact with his brother.

It's obvious Sam tried to wash the makeup off, but the only thing that came off was the lipstick. So now he has smeared makeup all over his face, but colorless lips. Dean tries his hardest not to burst into laughter while Sam, slowly but surely, starts walking towards him still clearly infuriated.

Dean can even swear that if he looks close enough, he can seriously see steam coming out of Sam's ears. As Sam gets so close to him that he can feel the hot air coming out from his flared nostrils, Dean looks up at him in the most sincere apologetic expression he's ever made. Dean stands there, prepared for Sam to punch him, to throw him against the wall or another but just as violent act of rage. But all he gets is a single word squeezed out from a jaw so clenched that a crowbar couldn't even loosen its hold. "Payback."

--

He's seen them before, and though never one to judge, this is the first time he's been amazed at how they can handle this on a daily basis.

As Dean walks through the grocery store in a black sequin cocktail dress and black velvet high heels, he feels every single pair of eyes piercing into him.

The kicker of course is the contents of his hand-held basket: full of tampons, pads, douches, feminine deodorants, a pregnancy test, and a bikini wax kit. None of it makes him feel any better. He keeps his head down and prays to god that he'll be out of there as soon as possible, knowing that justice is now served.

--

You know you laughed. Don't lie. Comments are very much appreciated! BTW, I know full well that Dean's payback was totally out of character for him. I was just having some fun and putting him through some hell. Oh God…Dean and hell in the same sentence…(bursts into tears).


End file.
